


Pins and Needles

by Jitterbugfever



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cannibalism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:37:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jitterbugfever/pseuds/Jitterbugfever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“Tell me Alfred," Ivan asked, grin widening. "Which path are you going to take? The Path of Needles or the Path of Pins?"</i> A twisted fairy-tale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pins and Needles

**Author's Note:**

> This story was deleted off of my FF.Net account so I am relocating it here. Please forgive any clumsiness as it is my first time uploading on this site. This story was inspired by a dream I had and melds together themes from Little Red Riding Hood and The Path of Needles or Pins.

_Once upon a time there lived two twin brothers. They were orphans, having been abandoned outside of a small village on a cold winter's night. A man named Arthur took them in and raised them as if they were his own. The two boys loved their Papa dearly._

_However, the boys were treated like outsiders. Not only were they orphans but their Papa was hated in the village. He was said to use dark magic and the villagers thought he dealt with evil forces. This of course was not true. Arthur only used good magic, natural magic. But there was no explaining that to the people of the village._

_Still, the three lived outside the village happily, surviving mainly off the land. They didn't need anyone but each other. Arthur had an intimate understanding of how to survive off of what was available and secrets that no one else knew. Matthew, the younger twin, was meek but earnest. He spent most of his time taking care of their cottage and cooking. Alfred, the elder twin, was brash and strong. He did much of the manual labor that needed to be done but often put himself in dangerous situations, his adventurous soul overwhelming Arthur's many lectures._

_They went on this way until the twins' nineteenth year. From time to time Arthur would go off by himself to another small cottage deep in the woods. The brothers were forbidden to follow him as there were many dangers in the woods. One day he went off as he had so many times in the past, promising to return within a week._

_A week passed, and then a second. Still, Arthur did not return and the brothers became more and more concerned. Alfred finally decided something had to be done about it._

“I'm telling you Matthew, something is wrong,” he said as he packed a small bundle filled with bread and a small pot of cream.

Matthew shook his head nervously. “But you know what Papa said. We aren't supposed to go into the woods! It's too dangerous!”

Alfred showed him a dagger. “I can protect myself, Matthew. Someone has to find Papa and it might as well be me. No one else is going to do it. Don't worry about me. I will be back before dark and I will have Papa with me, I promise.”

He hugged his brother tightly. Matthew pulled back and took his brother's face in his hands. “Whatever you do go straight there. Do not stray from the path and when you get to the fork remember to go down the Path of Needles.”

Alfred smiled reassuringly at his brother. “Don't worry, I know. It's not like I haven't heard it a thousand times.”

Alfred grabbed a red cloak for warmth, lifting the hood. With a final hug he left his brother. Matthew watched him go, face filled with worry.

_As Alfred started out he paid mind to his task, walking briskly along. However, as the time passed he became interested in his surroundings. Never had he been this far out in the woods. There was so much to see, so much to explore. He found himself distracted again and again._

_Soon he became tired. He sat beneath a tree to rest, eating his bread and drinking a little cream. He closed his eyes for a moment and slipped into a content sleep. He awoke hours later, the afternoon already waning._

Alfred jumped to his feet. “Damn! How could I let this happen? It will be dark soon and I haven't even gotten to the cottage! Matthew is going to be so worried...”

Aware of the fleeting daylight, Alfred hurried along, no longer pausing to explore. He was making good time when he heard something that sent a chill through him: the howl of a wolf. Alfred began to walk faster, trying not to trip in the dim light.

His breath caught as he heard the howl come again, hair-raisingly close. He began to run. His heart pounded as the howl pursued him. Soon he could hear the thump of its paws against the padded forest floor, the occasional snarl, its sharp intake of breath.

Running blindly, praying to the air, he continued on recklessly. Suddenly his foot caught on a root and he fell to the ground. All he could do was lie there, the breath knocked out of him. Recovering slightly he sat up, groping for his dagger. Surely the beast would be upon him. He threw back his hood and was startled at what he saw before him.

He had reached the fork in the road and standing between the two paths was a tall man with silver hair. His violet eyes seemed to glow unnaturally. Alfred sat up, catching his breath and staring at the man, who proceeded to stare back with keen interest.

The man finally crouched down, smiling softly at him. “Hello young man. Good evening.”

Alfred's hand relaxed. He looked around but could no longer hear the pursuing sounds of the wolf. “G-good evening sir.”

“You may call me Ivan. What is your name?”

“Alfred, sir. Er, Ivan.”

Where are you going so late?” Ivan inquired with the tilt of his head.

Alfred began to rub his ankle. It stung but thankfully did not seem twisted or broken. “There is a cottage at the end of this path. My Papa is there. He should have come back home already but hasn't. I am going to look for him.”

The smile widened. “I see. And tell me Alfred, which path are you going to take? The Path of Needles or the Path of Pins?”

“The Path of Needles. I've been told that is the best way to go.”

Ivan shook his head. “Oh no, not at all. It may be a bit safer but the Path of Pins is much faster.”

The man seemed very friendly and trustworthy and so Alfred decided to heed his advice despite having been told otherwise by his Papa. “Oh really? Well I am in a hurry...I suppose I will take the Path of Pins, then. Thank you.” He stood shakily and placed the hood back up.

“Do be careful in the dark, Alfred.”

Alfred turned to him and was once more disquieted my those strange violet eyes. “I will... And you si- er, Ivan.”

Alfred nodded his farewell and took the Path of Pins, limping slightly.

_What Alfred did not know was that Ivan was a bzou and had tricked him. The Path of Pins was twice as long as the Path of Needles. The bzou began down the Path of Needles so that he might reach the cottage before Alfred._

_As Alfred took the winding path in the dark, his brother had fallen into a total panic. Matthew was convinced that something terrible must have happened and had headed towards the village. While he knew none of his family was welcome there he was convinced there would be a single soul at least who would help him._

_He went to the local tavern where most of the menfolk were sure to be at that time of night. The rowdy conversations gradually died down as people began to realize who had walked through the door._

Matthew looked around nervously. He spoke too quietly to hear even in the oppressive hush. Clearing his throat he tried again.

“P-please, someone must help me! My brother... my brother went into the woods. He should have been back already but he's still gone. I don't know my way around the forest. I'm begging you, anyone, please help me!”

There was a moment of crystal silence and then someone laughed harshly. “Oh? And why should we help you?”

Another voice chimed in. “He's probably trying to lure one of us out into the woods so they can perform their dark magic on us!”

One of the men stood and grabbed Matthew, nearly lifting him off the ground. “You really have some nerve coming here and thinking you can trick us! We will have nothing to do with your kind here!”

He shoved Matthew away, who fell back against a chair before tumbling to the ground. He groaned and winced as the man started to advance on him.

“That will be quite enough of that,” said a clear voice.

A tall blond man in a long coat stepped away from a table, walking towards the man. The assaulter turned to face him. “It's none of your business.”

“I think it's my business when you're assaulting a kid that looks like he can be snapped in half easy as anything and isn't causing any harm but asking for help. If you want a fight I'd be happy to give you one.”

His companion, fair of face and delicate in build, spoke softly but commandingly. “Søren, don't cause problems.”

The man gave his companion a grin. “I know what I'm doing, don't you worry.”

“I'm not sure,” said the man. “Perhaps you should listen to your lady friend.”

The companion gave him a withering look. “...Use the axe, Søren.”

He lifted a large axe from beneath the table, which Søren retrieved with a smile. “As you wish, Elias.”

Matthew's assaulter turned pale at the sight of it and took a step back. “Look, I won't touch him again if all three of you leave.”

Søren tapped the axe thoughtfully. Elias spoke for him. “Very well. Come along, Søren. And you.”

He gestured at Matthew who scrambled to his feet. The three left the tavern, the two men flanking Matthew protectively.

“Thank you,” he said once they had gone a ways.

The two men looked at one another. Elias nodded and Søren spoke. “Your brother went into the woods?”

Matthew nodded. “Yes, this morning. He said he would be back before nightfall with our Papa but he didn't come. Maybe I am overreacting but it's so dangerous out there.”

Elias shook his head. “More so than you know. There is a bzou in the area. We came to hunt it. If it came across your brother...”

Matthew looked at him in horror. “No.... oh no please, surely there is something you can do? Alfred...”

Søren and Elias consulted a few moments before the latter turned to him. “If you tell us where he went we will look for signs of him. Perhaps the beast was nowhere near him and he was delayed. If it did find him I wouldn't have much hope.”

Søren shook his head. “Really Elias... Look boy, we will do our best. If I see that monster I will take its head clean off.”

Matthew nodded, feeling faint. He told them where to find his Papa and the path his brother should have taken. The two listened carefully and mounted a horse that was tied to a nearby tree. Matthew stopped them as they were about to leave. “Thank you for helping me. No one else would have because of the rumors about my Papa.”

Elias looked away. “It's nothing. We are not so ignorant and intolerant about the art of magic.”

Søren nodded. “Pray for your brother's safety, little one. Though I warn you prayers won't save him if the bzou has found him.”

The hunters took off into the woods leaving Matthew to shiver in the cold.

_Meanwhile, Alfred had finally found his way to the cottage, cold and exhausted but safe. There was a light beneath the door which gave him great hope. He knocked and waited for a response. When there was none he let himself inside._

_A great fireplace was lit at the back of the room. It was what gave off the light. In front of the fire was a table with a piece of paper, a bowl, and a goblet filled with red liquid. The room was silent save for the crackling of the fire. Feeling uneasy, Alfred picked up the paper._

It was a letter from Arthur: “Dearest Alfred, I do apologize for my lengthy absence. I am currently resting in the other room. Please, help yourself to some stew and wine and then come speak with me. -Arthur.”

Alfred was horribly relieved that his Papa was alright and nearly rushed in to speak with him immediately to scold him for his being gone so long. He was terribly hungry though and the stew smelled wonderful. So long as he knew Arthur was alright it should be fine to take a moment to eat.

Removing his red cloak, Alfred dug into the stew heartily. It was delicious and was soon gone. He drank the wine quickly to wash it all down. It was made of a strange, tangy berry Alfred had never tasted before. Hunger and thirst satiated, Alfred went into the bedroom.

The light from the fire crawled to the edge of the bed and highlighted a vague figure on it. Something seemed very strange about it but Alfred could not quite put his finger on it. He took a step into the room.

“Papa, there you are. What have you been up to?”

It was then with a chill that something clicked into place. How could his Papa have known that he was coming? How could he have known to set out the letter, the stew, the wine? It felt like he had been encased in ice and Alfred could not move.

Like a nightmare he suddenly saw two shimmering spots of purple, highlighted by the fire. A voice spoke, soft and seductive. “I am sorry for the trouble Alfred. You must be terribly cold from your journey. Take off your clothes and come into the bed. I will warm you with my body.”

Alfred felt faint as he looked into those hellish eyes. “...But how very large you seem to be all of a sudden, Papa.”

“All the better to keep you warm, my dear.”

Alfred began to tremble. “And what big eyes you have Papa...”

The eyes began to move towards him, the figure coming closer. “The better to see you with, my dear.”

Alfred reached back and caught the door, clutching it tightly. He felt splinters prickle against his palm. The figure had come further, a wolfish grin glinting in the light. “And Papa... what big teeth you have.”

“All the better to eat you with, my dear!”

Alfred turned to run and the figure launched itself forward. He got no more than a few steps before a heavy weight came crashing down on his back. Alfred cried out as powerful hands grabbed him, pulling him kicking and screaming into the bedroom.

He was suddenly turned on his back, pinned to the ground by the weight of the bzou who grinned down at him with those flashing, sharp teeth. “Now my dear, won't you be good and listen to me? It will be so much less painful that way.”

Alfred began to struggle again. “Papa! What did you do to my Papa? Where is he?”

The bzou giggled softly and ran a finger down his chest, stopping at his stomach. “Why, he is right here, Alfred. Or, what is left of him. I am afraid I had already eaten most of him so there was only enough to make a small bowl of stew for you, my dear.”

Alfred's eyes widened, a look of dawning horror on his face. “And the wine was what I had left from when I bottled his blood. Such a lovely meal and I gave it all to you.”

Alfred started hyperventilating which quickly turned to gagging. The bzou backed off and Alfred turned, becoming violently ill on the floor. He wiped his mouth weakly after the contents of his stomach had been thoroughly dumped, tears streaming down his face. “Oh god... oh god... No... No! Papa no!”

The bzou grabbed him around the waist, pulling him away from the mess. “Disgusting. What a waste of a perfectly good meal.”

Alfred struggled weakly, the energy gone from his limbs at the monstrous discovery. “Don't touch me! Let go! You... you bastard! Papa!”

Ivan hauled him up onto the bed, once more settling his weight on Alfred. He stroked one of his cheeks. “No need to cry. Your suffering shall come to end soon. And you may take comfort in the knowledge that your Papa's pain ended much more quickly than yours shall.”

Alfred turned his head quickly and bit the tips of two of Ivan's fingers. The bzou growled low in his throat and pulled them away before swiping across the cheek he had just been stroking. Alfred felt a sting of pain then a slow gushing warmth rolling down to his chin.

The bzou leaned in and began to lap at it eagerly. He was hungry for fresh blood, fresh meat. The one known as 'Papa' had been satisfactory but he had a taste for younger flesh. Besides, this one was lovely which made it even more enjoyable. Two hungers would be satisfied that night.

He grabbed the bottom of Alfred's shirt and abruptly pulled it up. There were some problems as one elbow got caught up, made worse by the boy's ceaseless struggling. Once it was off he ripped the material, turning Alfred over a moment. Ivan captured his wrists and tied them tightly. Now he should be easier to handle. He threw Alfred onto his back once more and proceeded to strip him down to nothing.

Soon there was only lovely skin and oh he could smell the blood rushing just beneath. He ran his nose along Alfred's body, pressing it against his neck, to the jugular. A shiver of anticipation went through the bzou.

“Such sensitive ears I have, the better to hear your heart racing, my dear.”

His hands slid down Alfred's sides, tracing out all the delicious muscle beneath. “And such big hands I have, the better to embrace you with, my dear.”

As Alfred wriggled beneath him, Ivan ran his tongue across that expanse of skin. His tongue moved leisurely down his sternum, all the way to his stomach. How very sweet the boy was. Nuzzling Alfred's stomach, Ivan's mouth watered as he imagined how his organs would taste.

“If you're going to kill me, do it now!” Alfred cried, more so out of the illusion of how heroic it sounded than of actual courage he might have felt in that moment. For in reality he was so terrified he could hardly breathe.

The bzou chuckled. “So impatient, my dear. It is not often I get such a delectable meal. I want to savor you. Every last bite.”

He nipped at Alfred's hipbone sharply, bringing a small spot of blood that welled up. Ivan licked it before turning Alfred onto his stomach.

Alfred tried to crane his neck to look back and see what the monster was doing. The hands traced along the backs of his shoulder, his spine, his backside, stopping at his thighs. They lingered there a moment before traveling up again. Alfred felt cold fear shoot through him. As if what this creature had already done to him wasn't sin enough, now it intended to violate him in such a way? He began to struggle with desperation, much to the bzou's amusement.

“Oh Alfred my dear, did I not tell you? If you would just relax this would be easier on you. Perhaps even enjoyable.” He forcefully spread the boy's legs and lifted his hips, giggling softly as he forced himself into the virgin body.

Alfred screamed until his voice became hoarse as the bzou had his way with him, savoring each scream, each tear, each little whimper. Eventually the searing pain that threatened to destroy Alfred turned into a nearly numb ache that just went on and on forever. The horrific thrusts became less grating, the blood of his abused body coming to the beast's aid.

Soon Alfred did not try to fight it. He pressed his face to the bed and sobbed as his body trembled violently, rocking with the force of each thrust. Turning his head he saw in the dim light his pants hanging off the side of the bed. It occurred to him that if he could get to them he might be able to retrieve his dagger and save himself yet. Subtly, with hands that shook like leaves, he began to pull at the bindings of his wrists. Getting the dagger was the only thought that kept him going, from blacking out under the cruel love of the bzou.

After what seemed an eternity the bzou was finally satisfied, resting heavily on Alfred as he recovered himself. Alfred's breathing was shallow as he gathered what little strength remained within him. Ivan chuckled breathlessly against his neck. “That was oh so sweet, my dear. I cannot wait to devour you and double your sweetness.”

As the bzou began to lean up Alfred attacked, pushing up against Ivan with all his might. The unexpected shove sent the bzou toppling off of Alfred. He growled and recovered quickly, but it was enough time for Alfred to throw himself off the bed, scrambling with his pants for the dagger. He cut his finger upon the blade but held it firmly, waiting for Ivan to attack.

And attack he did. The bzou was upon Alfred in a moment, fangs bared. “Your resistance is futile little one! Now I am quite tired of playing with my food.”

As he was about to lunge for Alfred's throat, the boy whipped out the dagger and shoved it into one of those glowing eyes. Ivan howled and reared back, falling off of Alfred and clutching at the dagger.

“Treacherous child! Treacherous child! I shall eat you slowly, piece by piece!”

Alfred jumped to his feet, entire body in agony as he ran from the room and through the cottage. The bzou leapt to his feet, throwing the dagger away as he gave chase after his escaping prey.

Alfred had gotten a few feet from the cottage when the bzou caught up and tackled him. Alfred cried out as Ivan pinned him to the forest floor. The moonlight made Ivan's good eye glow and illuminated the dark blood that dripped from the ruined socket. Ivan gave him a ghastly grin, letting Alfred's gaze linger over each pointed fang before he lowered his head and sank them deep into his shoulder, ripping out a chunk of flesh.

Alfred screamed and writhed beneath him as the bzou devoured it with satisfaction. He licked his lips. “Ah, a mouthful of hot meat. There is nothing better. And so very much more for me.”

Ivan leaned down and captured Alfred's lips so that he might know how grand a meal he would make. Alfred wretched at the taste of his own blood. The bzou grinned against his lips.

There was a great cry and the bzou's head jerked up. A glint of cold steel, a figure rapidly leaping towards them. Ivan barely had time to draw back with a menacing snarl before a blade cut his head clean off, nearly slicing across Alfred's face before a flick of the wrist turned it to a harmless arc.

The body jerked before slumping onto Alfred, a splash of blood hitting his face. The hunter quickly pushed it away. “Hey, you alright boy?”

Alfred looked at him in shock before his eyes rolled up and he passed out. Elias crouched down beside him and started looking him over. He gingerly touched the bite on Alfred's shoulder, frowning. Pulling a small flower from a pouch, he pressed it to the wound and chanted softly. For a moment Alfred's face contorted with pain then relaxed once more. With a nod Elias wrapped the wound quickly, applying pressure.

Søren picked up the bzou's head, grinning at it. “What a fierce expression it died with. It's rare we get one in human form. Such a prize.”

Elias frowned at him. “Put that thing away and help me.”

Søren carried it to the horse, stashing it in a bag before walking over to Elias. “Keep applying pressure to the wound. I'm going to try and find something to cover him.”

Søren nodded and took the boy in his arms, pressing on the cloth. “Quite the mess isn't he? Hey, why does he have blood on his thighs- Oh. I see...”

He pulled the boy closer, Elias not responding and instead heading towards the cabin. He looked around and closed his eyes. After a moment he opened them and spotted the red cloak on the chair. Grabbing it up, he brought it outside and placed it on the unconscious figure.

“Take him to the village and make sure he gets treated,” he said. “Stay with him the whole time or else they may throw him out or worse. He may be saved yet. Make sure once he is treated he is safely with his brother. Then come get me. This place reeks of bzou. It must have been here for a week, give or take a day. I doubt their Papa is around anymore. However there is a definite aura of magic. If he can't use his things anymore I might as well stock up and see if he had anything useful.”

“But what about the wound?” Søren asked.

Elias looked at Alfred thoughtfully. “I should have performed the ritual soon enough to get the poison purified. We will stick around for a while longer. If there are signs of his changing they should appear soon enough. And if I failed... You will have two trophies to take home instead of one.”

_And so Søren took the half-dead Alfred back to the village while Elias explored the small cottage. And the moral of the story is this dear children: Do not trust strangers no matter how trustworthy they may seem. They very well may want to eat you._

~ End


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